The transition from test subject to primary operative was jarringly swift. One moment Lunrik was slumping in the calibration chair, drained from the full-power simulation; the next, he was standing armed with the finalized Resonance Key, receiving mission parameters that sounded perilously close to a suicide run, directly authorized by the calculating High Loremaster Thrain himself.
Master Artificer Gyra, her scientific curiosity now fully subservient to Grimfang's urgent security needs, oversaw Lunrik's final preparations with brisk efficiency. Technicians quickly fitted him with a modified dwarven combat harness designed to securely hold the Resonance Key emitter and its humming power pack, ensuring the connecting cables didn't impede movement. He was given fresh nutrient paste tubes, a standard dwarven med-kit containing potent coagulants and pain suppressants, and replacement thermal charges for his borrowed cloak. His Boar's Tooth axe was checked for sharpness, his crossbow bolts replenished.
"The Resonance Key's power cell has sufficient charge for approximately twelve moderate discharges or three sustained high-energy pulses," Gyra informed him coolly, handing him two spare, heavy power cells. "Replacing a cell under combat conditions is… inadvisable, but possible. The bio-resonant trigger remains keyed to your Stigma frequency; accidental discharge by others is impossible, but," she fixed him with a sharp look, "uncontrolled resonance flares from you due to stress or injury could potentially trigger an unintended discharge. Maintain control, Subject Gamma-Three."
Control. Easy for her to say, Lunrik thought grimly, securing the spare power cells. Controlling the chaotic energy of the curse, especially under duress, felt like trying to leash lightning.
"Your escort," Gyra continued, gesturing towards the lab door where two figures now waited, "will guide you to the Sector eighty-six service tunnel access. They are not combat support; they are navigators and communication relays only. Once you enter the Lower Deeps access ways, you are effectively on your own until you reach the compromised zone or make contact with other deployed assets, if any remain functional."
Lunrik recognized one of the escorts – the young loremaster apprentice who had summoned him previously. His presence suggested Thrain wanted direct observation or reporting, even on this desperate mission. The other escort was a grim-faced Iron Guard warrior, likely assigned by Borin to ensure Lunrik actually went down, not deviating towards Borgrum's workshop first.
There was no time for farewells or further questions. Gyra gave a curt nod, signaling the mission was active. The loremaster apprentice and the Iron Guard guard flanked Lunrik, guiding him out of Resonance Lab Omega, leaving Gyra already immersed back in her analysis of the energy readings pouring in from the Lower Deeps sensors.
The journey back through the sterile white corridors of level one-twenty felt like a final walk through a cage he might never return from. He thought of Kaelith, picturing her fierce determination, her steady gaze. He thought of Fendril, the quiet scout who had bent the rules for them. He thought of Borgrum and Flint, trusting their unstable creation in his hands. He thought of Eryndor, the terrified key, now potentially a pawn in Thrain's deeper game. The weight of their fates, intertwined with his own, felt immense.
Alaric's ghost whispered, cynical and cold: Sent down alone with an exploding weapon to clean up their mess. Expendable. Use this Key for yourself. Find a way out. Leave them to their stone tombs.
Lunrik pushed the voice down, focusing on the mission. Find the hunters. Disrupt their connection to the Purifier amplifier. Stop them from using his blood resonance against him or others. And somewhere, somehow, find Kaelith. Find Fendril. Bring them back. It felt impossible, but it was the only path forward.
They reached the service tunnel access on level eighty-six – the same dark, cramped passage he had used with Borgrum earlier. The Iron Guard escort posted outside Borgrum's workshop watched them approach, his expression unreadable behind his helmet visor. There was no sign of Borgrum or Flint; they were likely still locked away, perhaps by Borin's orders, prevented from interfering further.
"Proceed via Maintenance Conduit Nine towards Sector eighty-nine primary junction," the loremaster apprentice instructed Lunrik formally, handing him a small, updated data slate showing a highlighted route through the labyrinthine tunnels. "Avoid main thoroughfares. Minimize resonance signature emission." He indicated the Resonance Key. "Do not activate that device unless facing confirmed hunter technology. Standard kinetics for subterranean threats."
The Iron Guard escort offered a curt nod. "Gate Command monitors your progress via internal sensors. Deviation will be noted." The message was clear: stay on mission, or face consequences.
Lunrik nodded grimly, took the data slate, secured his axe and crossbow, checked the feel of the Resonance Key emitter at his hip one last time, and stepped into the oppressive darkness of the service tunnel. The heavy access panel hissed shut behind him, sealing him off from the relative safety of the Cog City, plunging him into the cold, silent, dangerous depths alone.
The descent felt different this time, charged with a grim purpose rather than frantic escape or hesitant exploration. He moved as quickly as his healing ankle allowed, relying on the data slate's map and his own senses. The silence was profound, broken only by the drip of water, the scuttling of unseen cave vermin, and the faint, rhythmic tremor still vibrating through the rock – the heartbeat of a disturbed mountain.
He passed the junction where he and Borgrum had found the dead Iron Guard and Lurkers. The bodies were gone, but the scorch marks and ichor stains remained, stark reminders of the battle. He proceeded cautiously towards the tunnel leading to the Geode Caverns, axe held ready, Resonance Key humming faintly against his hip, a sleeping beast keyed to his blood.
He reached the entrance to the cavern network where Korgul had been found. The devastation remained – shattered crystals, Lurker carcasses, the grim residue of battle. He paused, listening intently. Silence. No sounds of recent fighting, no hum of hunter tech, no chittering of Lurkers. He scanned the area where Kaelith and Fendril had disappeared into the ancient conduit after the hunters. The passage mouth remained dark, forbidding.
He consulted the data slate again. It showed Conduit Delta branching off, leading deeper towards the coordinates Thrain's sensors indicated for the 'Primary Resonance Conduit Seven' and the hunter energy surge. That was his destination.
Taking a deep breath, Lunrik stepped over the Lurker remains, bypassed the Echoing Arch, and entered the narrow, crumbling conduit. The darkness swallowed him whole, the only light the faint glow from his data slate and the low, internal pulse from the Resonance Key sensing his own agitated harmonics.
He moved slowly, carefully, every sense on high alert. He listened for the faintest scrape of chitin, scanned the darkness for the blue glow of hunter tech, felt the rock walls for instability. The air grew colder, staler, heavy with the scent of decay and ancient dust. He saw more evidence of Fendril's passage – faint boot prints, a discarded ration wrapper – confirming the scout had come this way, pursuing Kaelith and the hunters. But there were no signs of recent conflict here, suggesting Fendril had passed through before whatever final confrontation occurred deeper within.
The conduit descended further, twisting like the guts of some colossal stone beast. Lunrik felt the pressure building again, the weight of the mountain immense. The rhythmic tremors returned, stronger now, shaking loose dust and small pebbles from the ceiling. He checked the data slate – he was nearing the coordinates for Resonance Conduit Seven.
Ahead, the tunnel widened slightly, opening into another small, natural-seeming grotto, similar to where Kaelith had been held captive, but this one felt different. The air hummed faintly, not with dwarven tech, but with a deep, resonant earth energy, similar to the Root Gate path but colder, more primal. And emanating from the center of the grotto, originating from a deep fissure in the floor that glowed with a faint, sickly green light, was a powerful wave of harmonic dissonance that made the Resonance Key vibrate sharply against his hip and the Stigma on his hand ache fiercely.
This was it. Primary Resonance Conduit Seven. The source of the disturbance. And likely, the place where Fendril's last transmission originated. Lunrik gripped his axe, raised the Resonance Key emitter, and peered cautiously into the grotto, preparing to face whatever nightmare awaited him in the heart of the mountain's discordant depths.